


National Hospital

by Fiddlerinthewoods, Sweetiepie13



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: (we know don't), Advanced Dungeons and Dragons, All the bad jokes, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Jokes, Bleut de France, Drunk Nations, Drunken Shenanigans, Dungeons & Dragons 3.5 Edition, Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Flu Shots, Fluff, Full of headcannons, Have fun figuring out which ones we ship, Humour, I hope, In case you didn't understand, Memories, Natural Disasters, Needles, Not to be taken seriously, Other, Parody, Post-World War I, Relationships are implied., Remembrance Day, Sad with a Happy Ending, Therapy, Trolls, War, World War I, a little bit of, battles, it is never specified what dnd it is, it's a hospital for nations, more tags when more chapters, poppies, reflections, unsure angst, what is angst?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-05-01 21:12:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14529291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiddlerinthewoods/pseuds/Fiddlerinthewoods, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetiepie13/pseuds/Sweetiepie13
Summary: There was an idea.To bring together the best medical professionals on the planet.These people would deal with the impossible.Heal those who once were thought to be unhealable.They should get paid more, considering what they deal with.But unfortunately, most countries have free healthcare.And those are the ones who frequent.Except America.





	1. Flu Shots

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted on Fanfiction.net  
> I do not own Hetalia  
> I co-owe this story, though  
> (edited 06/05/18 for spelling error)

When Ryan’s father said that the UN had collage experience for him, this wasn’t what he expected. He expected hundreds of patients, busy hours, and emergencies almost every hour. But being trapped on a small island in the middle of the Pacific ocean with only about 200 patients was not what he expected.

Ryan’s father works for the UN and somehow managed to get Ryan a position as a trainee at this place called National Hospital. Ryan had never head of the name before. It was in the middle of the Pacific, so he supposed that the view would be nice.

He wasn’t wrong. The view was nice. Except, he has to work inside all day. Every day. They don’t stop coming back. And by ‘they’, he means the Anthropomorphic Personifications of the Nations of the world. That wasn’t the most surprising part. Ryan already knew this, his father was high enough in the government to have met Canada. But it is still odd when century old beings run around a hospital like children.

Such as today.

It was the flu shot day. His day consists of him observing the doctors as they worked on the nations. This was the one day that Ryan knows ends up with tears, blood, and scattered needles. He expected these actions from children, not from Nations. He looked over the scene in the waiting room as Veneziano cried in the chair when Dr. Vella injected the needle. Dr. Vella was the doctor in charge of the Mediterranean region.

“See?” Dr. Vella said as she disposed of the needle, “That wasn’t so bad.” She placed a small bandage on Veneziano’s wound.

“Come on Italy,” said Germany standing off to the side, Dr. Schmidt had already finished with him. “Let’s leave.”

“ _Ve_ Okay Germany…” Veneziano said standing up.

The two left Dr. Vella and she called out her next patient, “Alright. I need Southern Italian Republic!”

One rule in the hospital, the nations must be called by their full names. Veneziano is Northern Italian Republic and Germany is Federal Republic of Germany.

Romano sat in the chair with a scowl on his face, “Hurry this up! I haven’t got all day!” He rolled up his sleeve.

“Of course.” Dr. Vella nodded before preparing the needle. She injected it into Romano’s arm and he jumped to his feet.

 _“Chigi!”_ Romano screeched, “What was that about?”

“Roma call down,” Spain placed a hand on the Italian’s shoulder, “It is just a flu shot.”

Romano didn’t accept that answer and began to swear at them both. Ryan turned away and spotted Dr. Lyon. He was in charge of the countries of France, America, Canada, and England- also called FACE. France, Canada, and England has already gotten their flu shots, America was the last one left.

“Come on, America,” England said, “It’s just a flu shot.”

“No way man!” America backed up, “I ain’t getting anything injected into me! I’m the hero! I don’t need to get shots!”

"Mon Dieu, Amérique.” France mentioned, “Why are you such un enfant? ”

“A what?”

“A child.” Canada’s soft voice was ignored.

“United States of America,” Dr. Lyon started, “Your president has instructed me to give you this flu shot. Nations are susceptible to illnesses, the flu nonetheless.” Dr. Lyon doesn’t take anyone’s attitude, especially American adult-children.

“Dude!” America exclaimed, “I’m still not getting this shot!”

Dr. Lyon sighed. “If you do not get this shot, then I will personally call your president and tell them of this predicament. I’m sure they will not be happy to receive a call from the hospital when all the matter is a simple flu shot. It won’t hurt.”

“But did does!”

“America,” England sighed, “Get the bloody shot.” He turned to Dr. Lyon, “I’m sorry, he has always been like this since he was young.”

France lightly brushed his hair from his cheek, “Canada was never like this. Maybe because Amérique wasn’t raised by moi that he became this way.”

“Oh shut up you bloody frog!” England turned to yell at the Frenchman, “You can’t even remember Canada!”

“I’m right here!” Canada called out. Again, no one heard him. He looked down at his polar bear, Kumajirou, “Mr. Kumacheko why does no one remember me?”

“Who are you?” Kumajirou wondered.

“I’m Canada.” The nation replied sadly.

While Canada was talking to his bear, France and England had managed to latch onto each other’s’ throats and was now trying to strangle each other. Dr. Lyon sighed as the two men fought. America watched them, commenting on somethings like “Grab his hair!” and “Ha ha! I didn’t know you dudes could be so immature at a hospital!” that got him the response of “SHUT UP AMERICA!” from both nations.

While America was busy, Dr. Lyon took this advantage and injected the needle into America’s arm. He managed to empty the flu shot into the nation before said nation ripped it out.

“Dude, totally uncalled for.”

“I did warn you earlier that I was giving you this needle,” Dr. Lyon reminded. “My job is done. It was nice seeing you again, but now I must ask you to leave unless you have any medical needs?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Non.”

“Not if you are going to stick needles into me again…”

“Get over that America,” England scoffed. America turned away from him, unhappy.

Canada turned to the doctor, “I’m fine, merci Dr. Lyon.”

“De rien Canada,” the doctor said before starting to pack up.

Ryan moved his concentration over to the Nordic region and their doctor, Dr. Apollonia Jensen. She was currently in the middle of trying to coax Denmark to sit down. Sweden and Finland were watching from the sides. Norway and Iceland were waiting their turns, they were used to Denmark’s personality by now.

“Kingdom of Denmark,” Dr. Jensen started, “You need to take this needle. See, even the United States of America got the shot.”

“He got tricked!” Denmark exclaimed. He reached for his axe before remembering that weapons are prohibited inside the hospital.

“Anko,” Norway said, “Take the shot. You are holding up the line.”

“I don’t care!” Denmark turned to Sweden, “Come on Sverige! Don’t you agree with me? This is torture!”

Sweden hummed, “No.”

Denmark’s face fell and he cried out, “No! Sverige! How could you do this to me?”

“Danmörk,” Iceland sighed, “Hurry up. This is taking too long.” Normally his puffin, Mr. Puffin, would be on Iceland’s shoulder, but since animals are also prohibited in the hospital; he had to stay back in Iceland.

“Aw, come on Icey.” Denmark complained, “I don’t even see why I need to get this shot! I’m perfectly healthy!”

“Very well,” Dr. Jensen said, “Then you will not get the shot. Kingdom of Norway, you’re next.”

Norway sat down on the chair and rolled up his sleeve. Denmark stood, frozen, as Norway received his shot. After it was finished, he received a bandage and Iceland sat down on the chair after him. Iceland finished soon after. Dr. Jensen began to pack up.

“That’s it?” Denmark asked, “I don’t have to get the needle?”

“Ja.” Dr. Jensen nodded, “But you will need to write a report to your queen about why you came out to here to receive a shot, yet didn’t get it, and may be a carrier of the flu. I’m sure she’ll _love_ it if you get her sick.”

Denmark paled. Nation’s didn’t obtain dieses like humans. If it didn’t affect them; then they would be a carrier and humans in any rooms with them could become ill. Within a second he was sitting down in the chair with his sleeve rolled up. “Make it quick.”

Dr. Jensen nodded and began to unpack.

Finland turned to Sweden, “Su-san, how does she do that?”

Sweden only shrugged.

Ryan’s attention got pulled over to where Dr. Dimitrov was trying to inject Poland with the needle. The nation was hiding behind Lithuania, whom got his shot already. Russia had escaped while Belarus was getting her needle, she is now chasing him around the hospital. Romania and Moldova were waiting their turns. Bulgaria was waiting for Romania to finish. Estonia had sided away and was chatting to Finland (not so subtly asking to become a Nordic). Latvia stood by himself; Asia, Western Europe, Oceania, and the micro-nations would be getting their shots in the next day. Hungary was chasing Prussia with a frying pan she somehow managed to sneak into the hospital.

“Republic of Poland,” Dr. Dimitrov sighed, “Why must you act this way? I am not a stranger, I am your doctor. We have met on numerous occasions. Stop hiding behind Republic of Lithuania.”

Poland didn’t move.

Lithuania sighed, “Poland, you need to get this shot. You could get sick if you don’t.”

Poland peeked his head over Lithuania’s shoulder before ducking back down when he saw Dr. Dimitrov.

The doctor sighed, “Why are you like this?”

With the sound of a gunshot, Ryan’s head whipped over to the side and he saw Dr. Schmidt ducked in his chair and a bullet hole in the wall behind him. Switzerland had a smoking gun in his hand, still aimed at the wall. Liechtenstein was sitting in the chair beside Dr. Schmidt. The security guards readied their weapons but put them away after seeing that it was simply Switzerland. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

Dr. Schmidt sighed, “Swiss Confederation, how many times have I told you to not bring weapons into the hospital? This is a place of healing, not injuring.”

“You hurt Liechtenstein.”

“It’s a needle. Of course it hurts.”

“Big brother, I’m okay.” Liechtenstein said, “It was just a pinch.”

Switzerland didn’t look convinced, but he did lower his gun.

Ryan felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up. A man stood beside him. The man took his hand off and sighed, “First day?”

“Yeah.” Ryan nodded.

“Ah, flu shots. The best day to start the job.”

“Ah, I’m only a trainee.” Ryan corrected, “I don’t mean to ask, but who are you?”

“Kane Kim, head nurse.” He sighed, “I don’t know what is worse, being head nurse or a doctor?” he shook his head, “Equal I guess.”

“Eh?”

“When you are doctor you specialize with a certain region,” Kane nodded in Dr. Schmidt’s directions, “Schmidt handles the Germanics, pretty much Central Europe.” He looked over to Dr. Vella, “Vella handles the Mediterraneans. Lyon does FACE—as you know. Wong isn’t here, but she handles the Asians. Neither is Gomez, and she handles the micro-nations. Bakker also is gone, she does Western Europe and Oceania. Dimitrov does Eastern Europe. And Jensen handles the Nordics.

“I travel between the regions, I am a nurse after all. So I have to deal with everyone. That can be stressful, especially when you forget what to say or not to say in front of certain people…”

“Fun.”

Kane nodded, “Can be—at times. Other times… not so much.”

Ryan raised his eyebrow, “How so?”

Kane scratched the back of his head, “When you have people who are centuries old, there can be some terrible history. Take Russian Confederation for example. The USSR once ruled over almost all of Eastern Europe, he lived with those people. Now that it has fallen, he is alone. There is also People’s Republic of China. He practically raised all of the other Asians. State of Japan backstabbed him, literally. Hong Kong Special Administrative Region of the People’s Republic of China was taken by United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. And Republic of China prefers State of Japan over him.

“That is why we have certain things—like flu shots—separated into many groups. Almost everyone has history with each other. And it is way less stressful if we keep certain groups separate when everyone is needed. The big groups tend to take a while.”

“Oh.” Ryan didn’t know what to say. So he said, “I’ll keep that mind.”

Kane smiled and wrung his arm around Ryan’s shoulders, “Great. Now remember this, once you become a part of this hospital it is almost impossible to leave.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” Kane looked seriously at Ryan for a moment before he broke out into a small laugh, “I’m just joking! I’m just joking!”

Somehow, Ryan didn’t think that Kane was joking.


	2. Therapy: Nordic Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therapy with the Nordics.  
> Yay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hetalia.  
> Cross-Posted on Fanfiction.net  
> (Edited on 11/05/18 for term correction)

Dr. Asim Tuma was the psychologist at National Hospital. He had been working with the nations for almost ten years now. Today the new trainee, Ryan, would be shadowing him until Dr. Tuma had appointments. His first appointment was around one in the afternoon. It was with the Nordics. Until then, Dr. Tuma had the day off. Currently, Ryan was sitting in Dr. Tuma's office. They were chatting.

"So what made you want to become a doctor?" Dr. Tuma wondered.

Ryan thought, "I guess that I wanted to help people. I have to admit, this was _not_ what I expected."

"It never is." Dr. Tuma laughed slightly.

"So…" Ryan started, "Who's your first appointment?"

"Ah," the Egyptian looked through his files, "Kingdom of Denmark. Then Kingdom of Norway, Republic of Iceland, then Kingdom of Sweden, and Republic of Finland."

"One at a time?"

"Yup."

"I'd imagine that you would take group therapy as a group."

Dr. Tuma laughed, "Not with these guys. I tried three times. It was never good.

"From on the couch sat Kingdom of Sweden, Republic of Finland, and Kingdom of Denmark. Republic of Iceland and Kingdom of Norway sat in the chairs. Then Kingdom of Denmark complained as to sit beside Kingdom of Sweden. I moved Kingdom of Denmark on the other side of Republic of Finland. Kingdom of Sweden complained. He didn't want him beside Republic of Finland. So I switched the seating arrangements. Republic of Iceland, Kingdoms of Norway and Denmark sat on the couch. Kingdom of Norway didn't want Kingdom of Denmark beside him. He also didn't want him near his brother—or the Republic of Iceland."

"They're related?" Ryan asked.

"Yes. Kingdom of Norway wants Republic of Iceland to call him big brother. He won't." Dr. Tuma paused, "What was I saying? Oh right! "I feared that if I kept this seating arrangement then Kingdom of Denmark would be strangled to death from Kingdom of Norway. While Republic of Iceland didn't want to sit beside his brother, but Kingdom of Norway wanted to sit beside Republic of Iceland. I decided to change the seating for the last time.

"Kingdom of Sweden sat in between the brothers. Though Kingdom of Norway complained, I ignored him. Kingdom of Denmark sat alone and so did Republic of Finland. Then Kingdom of Denmark complained about being isolated and not sitting with his 'best buddy.' Kingdom of Norway promptly strangled him. "That is when I came to the idea of taking them in one at a time." Dr. Tuma finished, "Oh, and they were fine with the first seating arrangements. They were just being difficult. They didn't want to be there."

"Wow."

Dr. Tuma nodded, "Yeah. Just keep in mind one thing when you have to work with the nations: they are all children. They may be centuries old, have been through countless battles, seem mature—but they are children. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. The sooner you learn that, the easier it gets."

"Children?"

"Maybe it is a nation-thing," the psychologist shrugged, "But they all seem to be childish. You can bribe almost every one of them; they will listen if you use the 'stern parent' voice; and ignore the threats. They won't actually hurt you unless... unless, I guess, when you are on the battlefield. Then again, times have changed."

"Good to know." Ryan muttered. "Hey, you're the psychologist, correct?"

"Sometimes I wish I wasn't. Why?"

"I know I'm the college student, but what _exactly_ do I do?"

"Good question." Dr. Tuma thought, "You would have to ask Uli."

"Who?"

"Uli Newton," Dr. Tuma explained, "They own the hospital—I think they started it as well. No one knows."

"They?"

"No one knows anything about Uli." He explained, "They are a mystery of this place. A fabled owner who no one has seen or met. No information about them exist. We've searched. No one will tell us anything. Not even the UN."

"Maybe they were made up?" Ryan suggested.

Dr. Tuma scoffed, "Unlikely. Why make up someone who owns a place?"

Ryan didn't have an answer. He would have spoken more except Dr. Tuma's alarm went off. He looked at it and sighed before turning it off.

"Just great." He said.

"What?" Ryan wondered.

"I have an appointment." Dr. Tuma sighed, "With Kingdom of Denmark, nonetheless. How about you go and find Bakker and shadow her for a while. She shouldn't be doing anything."

Ryan nodded.

He thanked Dr. Tuma and then left to find Dr. Bakker.

* * *

 

Now to Dr. Tuma and the Nordics.

Dr. Tuma sat in his office as the door opened. Denmark walked inside.

"Ah," the doctor said, "Have a seat."

Denmark sat on the couch. He leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. "Hej doc." _Hello._

"How are you today?"

"I was great," Denmark started, "Then I had to come to therapy—which I do _not_ need, if I may point out."

Dr. Tuma sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, "You say that every time. My response will not change: it is for your mental health. Having someone to talk to about every, and any, thing is healthy. Venting is healthy. That is what I am here for."

Denmark nodded, "I have nothing to vent about. Can I leave?"

"No."

* * *

 

"I don't get why he won't call me storebror." _Big brother._

"He may feel embarrassed by it."

"But why?"

Norway was currently lying down on Dr. Tuma's couch. He was venting about Iceland, and showing probably the most emotion he ever has shown.

"Do I embarrass him or something?" Norway asked. His voice was still monotone, so it sounded more like a demand than a question.

"I cannot say,"

"Maybe I should call him lillebror," he suggested. _Little brother._ "Then he would want to call me storebror."

"I don't think that is a good idea."

* * *

 

"…And then he kept calling me lillebror. Does he think that will make me want to call him storebror? It won't work."

"Why do you not want to call Kingdom of Norway storebror?" Dr. Tuma asked.

Iceland thought, "It's immature. I don't need to call him storebror. I'm not a child."

"Have you ever thought of his point of view?" Dr. Tuma wondered.

"What do you mean?"

"He has raised you since you _were_ a child," Dr. Tuma started, "He considered you his brother, even when he didn't know. Now he knows that you are, he wants you to have a closer connection to him."

"Yeah, but I used to call him storebror when I little." Iceland countered, "But anyway. I still don't want to call him storebror."

"Very well." Dr. Tuma nodded, "Now, how is your relationship with Hong Kong Special Administrative Region of the People's Republic of China?"

Iceland blushed.

* * *

"He stole all the mats from your house claiming them to be his property because you named them after him, correct?"

Sweden nodded.

"I don't know how to respond to that." Dr. Tuma muttered. He straightened up, "How does that make you feel?"

"Cold. M'house has no mats."

"Cold, huh?" Dr. Tuma repeated, "Anything else? Any other emotions?"

Sweden thought, "Angry."

"Good, good." The doctor nodded, "And how are you going to show your anger?"

The nation stood up, "B'killing the Dane."

Dr. Tuma stood up as to stop Sweden, "No! No, you will not. Killing is never the answer." He managed to get Sweden to sit down again, "Now, let's try again. How will you show you anger?"

Sweden thought for a moment, "B'not killing the Dane."

Dr. Tuma nodded.

It was a start.

* * *

"…then I took my rifle and shot at Tanska." Finland said, "That will teach him not to mess with Su-san's things."

Dr. Tuma sighed. _Why me?_ He thought. "Republic of Finland," he started, "How many times have I told you that shooting is never the answer."

"I checked with Switzerland, he thought it was a proper response."

"Swiss Confederation was not correct," Dr. Tuma explained, "Shooting people is not the correct response."

"It worked out." Finland noted, "Besides, it was Tanska. He knows not to touch anything IKEA related. It so happens that Su-san's house is practically an IKEA. He knew the rules."

"You cannot go around shooting people no matter the circumstances!"

"What about war?" Finland wondered, "Or a robbery? What about if I am a cop and someone has people hostage. Is it okay then?"

Dr. Tuma sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, this was going to be a long day.

* * *

"…Then Finny shot at me!" Denmark exclaimed, "Right in the forehead! Luckily I woke up quickly and didn't get blood on the mats."

"Why did you steal Kingdom of Sweden's mats?" Dr. Tuma wondered.

"He named it after me!" Denmark explained, "I know he said that it was to show that we were 'welcoming people' but I know that he named it after me because he wanted to step on me! Literally!"

"Have you taken this up with Kingdom of Sweden?"

"Of course." Denmark nodded, "But he keeps saying the same thing!"

"Have you told him how you feel?"

"Of course not!" Denmark shook his head, "Why would I?"

"It is not healthy to not share your feelings."

Denmark smiled, "That's why I have you!"

Dr. Tuma sighed.

* * *

"Kingdom of Norway," Dr. Tuma said, "You cannot go around cursing people into Lego blocks."

"He deserved it, that idiot Dane."

Dr. Tuma sighed. He has been doing that a lot. _This job will give me grey hairs before forty._ "Where is Kingdom of Denmark currently?"

Norway held out a single red Lego block.

"You cursed Kingdom of Denmark into a Lego block and haven't turned him back for a whole day?" Dr. Tuma demanded.

"It has been quiet lately."

"Kingdom of Norway," Dr. Tuma started, "That goes against Human Rights."

"I do not believe that it mentions anything of being turned into a Lego."

"Article nine: no one shall be subjected to arbitrary arrest, detention or exile." Dr. Tuma recited, "I do not believe he agreed to this."

"He might."

Dr. Tuma sighed, "Kingdom of Norway," he said, "Turn Kingdom of Denmark back to normal."

"No,"

* * *

"I don't know if I should be worried about this," Iceland started slowly, "But Norway asked me about my opinion on turning Denmark into a Lego block."

Dr. Tuma sighed, "And what did you say?"

"Sure."

"Why would you say that?"

"He threw my Hákarl in the Denmark Strait claiming it to be devil's food." Iceland explained, "Then he banned me from _my_ own museum." "

Which museum was this?" Dr. Tuma asked.

"The Icelandic Phallological Museum."

"Ah," Dr. Tuma nodded. "Understandable."

"How?"

* * *

"So you adopted a child off of EBay?" Dr. Tuma asked.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Fin wanted kids."

"But EBay?"

Sweden nodded his head. Sitting beside him was Sealand (or the kid adopted off of EBay).

"I don't understand why you would go on EBay looking for kids." Dr. Tuma sighed before turning to the sailor child, "Principality of Sealand, why did you offer yourself on EBay?"

"I wanted to leave that Jerk England's house." Sealand explained, "He wouldn't recognise me as a country!"

"So EBay was your answer?" Dr. Tuma asked.

"Yup!"

"Is did the same thing." Sweden mentioned, "Long time ago."

Dr. Tuma sighed before dotting down on the notebook, "I need to call EBay and talk to them about their human-selling options."

* * *

"…And then he bought a kid!" Finland exclaimed, "Off of EBay nonetheless!"

"And how does that make you feel?"

"Angry, I guess." Finland said, "Nervous also. Joyful even."

"Why are you angry?" Dr. Tuma wondered.

"I'm angry at the fact that Englanti let his micro-nation sell himself off on EBay!" Finland mentioned, "And on Ruotsi actually buying the kid off of EBay!"

"What about nervous? Why are you nervous?"

Finland quieted, "I guess I'm nervous on whether or not Sealand will like us or not…I've never had kids before…"

"What you are feeling is what every adopted parent feels." Dr. Tuma explained. "Now, why are you joyful?"

"Because we have a kid!" Finland exclaimed, "I get to be a parent! And I know that Ruotsi has that micro-nation, but he never visits—plus he can be brat-ish. But now we have a kid!"

"Well, I'm happy for you." Dr. Tuma smiled.

"Thanks. I am as well."

* * *

"Being a Lego isn't as much fun as I'd imagine." Denmark started.

"I'd imagine that." Dr. Tuma agreed, "When did Kingdom of Norway turn you back?"

"He didn't."

"Oh."

"I had to wait for the spell to wear off."

"How do you feel about that?" Dr. Tuma wondered.

"Annoyed," Denmark said, "Tired—being a piece of Lego was hard work."

"Why are you annoyed?"

"Because he tuRNED ME INTO A PIECE OF LEGO!" Denmark exclaimed, "As much as I love Lego, being one isn't much fun."

"Could you think while as a piece of Lego?" Dr. Tuma wondered.

Denmark nodded, "I could hear everything as well. Including Norge's therapy session."

Dr. Tuma nodded his head, "Is your love of Lego now gone, or do you still love it?"

The nation laughed, "That's like asking Sverige if he hates IKEA after living in one. He did live in one. It took six men and Finny to make him leave. And no, he still loves IKEA."

"So?"

"Yes, I still love Lego." Denmark explained. "How can you hate it? It's the perfect building blocks of life! I would build my house out of Legos—nearly succeeded too—but Norge stopped me."

"Building blocks of life?" Dr. Tuma blinked.

Denmark smiled, "Yeah! You can build anything from Legos! Even life!"

"Don't tell you have."

The Dane sheepishly smiled, "Maybe one time…."

Dr. Tuma sighed.

* * *

"It's the troll fault."

"No it isn't. You commanded Troll to do this!"

"I would never."

"Like you haven't before!"

Currently, both the nations of Norway and Iceland were sitting in Dr. Tuma's office. The brothers were tied together, by the lower arms, by a mystical green rope. Norway was smirking slightly while Iceland was fuming.

Dr. Tuma sighed, "Tell me again how this happened."

Iceland started, "I was sitting around in my house when he," he glared at his brother, "barged in and asked me for a favour."

"It was a simple favour." Norway mentioned.

"Throwing Legomörk into the fires of Hekla is not simple."

"Legomörk…? Wait, Lego, Mörk. Danmörk. Kingdom of Denmark. Carry on." Dr. Tuma interrupted.

"Anyway, he wanted to throw Legomörk into _my_ volcano." Iceland carried on, "I tried to stop him because it would upset the demons!"

"Demons?"

"It's The Gateway to Hell, of course there are demons." Iceland explained, "As I was saying:

"I tried to stop Noregur but then suddenly his troll comes from nowhere are ties a rope around our arms. We can't get it off. It has been stuck here for the past two days."

Dr. Tuma nodded, "Okay." He said, "How does that make you feel?"

They both glared at the psychologist, "How do you think?" Iceland wondered, "I'm angry, annoyed, and pissed."

"I feel contented." Norway said.

" _Of course_ you do."

"This wouldn't have happened if you called me storebror." Norway mentioned, "Like you promised."

"I'm not going to call you storebror."

"You promised." Norway said in a sing-song voice. "Say it: storebror."

"I can't hear you."

"Storebror."

"Can you make him shut up?" Iceland asked the doctor, who shook his head.

"Storebror."

"Nope."

"Big Brother."

"Why are you speaking English?"

"O niichan."

"No."

"Stóri bróðir."

"Saying it in my language is not going to convince me."

"HOW long is this rope going to last?" Dr. Tuma interrupted.

Norway turned to him, "About a week."

"Can you two last a week tied up together?" the doctor wondered.

Norway said "Yes," at the same time Iceland said "No,"

Dr. Tuma sighed, "Kingdom of Norway," he said, "Can you tell your troll to untie the rope?"

Norway shook his head, "Troll has gone missing."

"Missing." The doctor echoed, "Your magical troll has gone missing?"

Norway nodded his head, "I cannot see where Troll is."

Iceland scoffed and wanted to say something. He stopped himself and pouted. "Well," he said, "Find Troll."

Norway smirked, "I cannot find Troll if I don't know where Troll is."

Iceland glared at him, _"Sure_ you don't."

"What ever do you mean?"

Dr. Tuma sighed, "Enough." He ordered, "Kingdom of Norway, you need to keep better watch over your magical creatures. Republic of Iceland, you need to stop blaming others. What is in the past is in the past. You have to focus on the future."

"I wasn't blaming others!"

"Kingdom of Norway has no way of 100% controlling his troll. Creatures—magic or not—do not always follow people's orders, no matter how trained they are. What you _can_ do is stand each other's company for the next 120 hours." Dr. Tuma explained, "Now, our time here is finished. If you have any other concerns, please make an appointment."

The brothers grumbled, but left the psychologist alone in his office.

Standing outside the door was Denmark. He smiled when both brothers emerged. Sweden and Finland were sitting in the waiting room.

"How was it?" the Dane demanded.

"Sverige is up next." The Norwegian explained. The Swede nodded before standing and entering Dr. Tuma's office.

"What about the predicament?" Finland wondered.

"There isn't anything to do about it." Norway explained, "We're stuck like this for five days."

Iceland glared at Norway, "Because you won't tell your troll to take off the rope."

"I don't know where Troll is."

" _Sure_ you don't."

"What do you mean?"

"Can you two stop fighting?" Finland demanded, "Let's just wait in peace."

"You're not stuck to Noregur."

"I wish I was—hey! AGGGGHHH!" Norway began to strangle Denmark by his tie.

Sweden closed the office's door and Dr. Tuma sighed. He needed a raise.

* * *

"Wow," Ryan said as he entered Dr. Tuma's office, "Isn't it too early for whisky?"

Dr. Tuma was slumped in his chair, his tie loose and his jacket was thrown onto the ground. He had a glass of whisky in his hand. He took a drink of his whisky, "What time is it?"

"One in the afternoon."

"Nope." The doctor said, "It's not too late. I just had to spend the whole night dealing with the Nordics. They kept coming back."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Plus it's my day off. I need to rest."

"And get drunk?"

"That too." Dr. Tuma leaned forward to look at the college student, "Listen, if they give you the chance, don't become a psychologist—at least, not here."

"Okay…why?"

"Then you don't have to deal with Legos and trolls and Legomörk."

"Do I want to know?"

Dr. Tuma shook his head, "No, no you do not."

The doctor took a long drink of his whisky. He really needed a raise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for HetaTrash OwO, on fanfiction, for explaining us to what a psychiatrist is and that we needed to replace the term with psychologist.


	3. That One Time They Got Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when personifications go to the bar?  
> Bad things for the hospital crew, that is for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We don't own Hetalia.  
> Cross-posted on Fanfiction.net  
> Also, almost everyone is OOC (they are drunk).
> 
> [Thank you to Anon for correcting our French! 30/12/18]

It was nice and peaceful for once. There were no disruptions from any of the nations, no emergency medical operations, nothing. That was his first warning. Ryan was sitting at the café called: World Cup (of Joe) sipping his cup called: Am. Samoa Got Creamed. He saw Dr. Dimitrov rush up to him.

“Allan!” the doctor exclaimed, “Why are you sitting around? We need you!”

Ryan placed down his coffee, “What? Why?”

“3/4s of the nations barged into the hospital,” the Moldovan explained, “Injured and drunk.”

“What!” Ryan exclaimed, “Are any in critical state?”

“No. Some are unconscious though. I think that Kingdom of Netherlands is high, as well.” Ryan stood up and followed Dr. Dimitrov to where the horde of nations was.

“What makes you think that?” Ryan asked.

“Look for yourself.”

Ryan saw Dr. Bakker talking to Netherlands. Belgium sat beside Netherlands, she looked concerned. They were speaking Dutch. “Koninkrijk der Nederlanden, kijk hier.” _Kingdom of the Netherlands, look here._

After a few seconds, Netherlands looked up at Dr. Bakker. Ryan walked over to her and she glanced at him before turning back to the nation. Ryan looked down at Netherlands, the whites of his eyes were tinted red and he smelled of marijuana.

“What do you think, Ryan?” Dr. Bakker asked.

“I think he’s high.”

“I didn’t smoke anything yet,” Netherlands mentioned. His pipe was missing.

“Koninkrijk der Nederlanden, lieg je?” Dr. Bakker demanded. _Kingdom of the Netherlands, are you lying?_

“Liggen? Waarom zou ik liegen? Wie heeft je verteld dat ik loog?” He demanded. _Lie? Why would I lie? Who told you I was lying?_

“Blijf daar.” Dr. Bakker ordered. _Stay there._ She turned to Ryan, “I think you’re correct.” 

“He is,” Belgium agreed, “Big Brother was smoking the entire time.”

He turned to look at his sister, a gasp; “How could you betray me like that?”

Dr. Bakker turned to Ryan, “Maybe you should make sure none of the patients injure themselves more than they have.”

Ryan nodded, “Okay.” He turned and looked around. He spotted Iceland trying to push a clinging Norway off his arm. He walked over to them.

“What is going on over here?” Ryan wondered.

Iceland turned to look at him, the younger nation wasn’t drunk. “My brother won’t let go of my arm. He is trying to convince me to join his ‘gang’.”

“It’s not a gang,” Norway slurred, “It’s the Chianadaway pact; we could make it the Chianadalandway pact.”

“Chianadaway?” Ryan asked.

Iceland sighed, “China, Canada, and Norway made a pact to gang together and take over the world.”

“Okay…”

Norway tried to swat Ryan away, “Go ‘way. You’re not in this meeting. Jeg vil ikke se ansiktet ditt igjen.” _I don’t want to see your face again._

“Norway,” Iceland scolded, “That wasn’t nice. Say you’re sorry or I’ll leave.”

Norway panicked, “Nei! Ikke forlat!” _No! Don’t leave!_

“Then say you’re sorry.”

“Beklager…” _Sorry…_

“In English.”

“…Sorry…” Norway clutched Iceland’s arm tighter, “Now don’t leave.”

Iceland sighed, “I don’t think I will be able to if your clutch my arm tighter.”

“He’s drunk, isn’t he?” Ryan pointed out.

“What gave you that hint?” Iceland sighed, “Denmark and Sweden got into a fight at the bar—luckily didn’t break it—but totally knocked each other out. Dr. Jensen should be dealing with them right now. I have to watch over my annoying brother.”

“What about Republic of Finland?” Ryan wondered.

“Finn’s fine,” Iceland said, “He can out drink everyone. In fact, I think he did. I think he went home to check on Sealand.”

Ryan nodded.

“You can check on the other patients,” Iceland said, “As much as a nuisance he is, he’s harmless. I can take care of Norway.”

Ryan nodded before turning and walking down the hallway. He spotted Hungary and Estonia singing their hearts out.

“Five hundred bottles of beer on the wall! There’s five hundred bottles of beer! Take one down! Pass it ‘round! That’s four-hundred and ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall!” They sang clutching each other for support. Dr. Dimitrov ignored them and focused on Lithuania who was knocked out by Belarus. Poland was trying to flirt with Belarus, or more correct, trying to be Lithuania’s wing-man. Latvia watched them from a far, he then turned and left. The shorter nation didn’t look drunk.

“Roma~!” Spain cooed to the depressed Italian, “Why so sad?” He was leaning onto Romano, whom was sitting on a bench. Both were drunk.

“What is-a life?” Romano wondered, “What is death? Why do we live? What is-a our goal in life? Dio, non lo so!” _God I don’t know!_ The nation burst into tears.

Spain smiled, “You’re _so_ hot when you cry. Would you like to vieni nella my room stasera?” _Would you like to come to my room tonight?_

Romano only burst out crying more. He was talking about ‘what love is’ and ‘why must I be forced into this unfair life’.

Ryan ignored them, not knowing what to do with the depressed drunk and the flirty drunk. He managed to find Greece and Turkey glaring at each other from across the hall. They looked like they were beaten badly.

“What happened?” Ryan asked them.

“Mm,” Greece started, “Turkey attacked me.”

The Turk turned to the Greek, annoyed, “ _Wha?_ You attacked me!”

“No, I didn’t,”

“Yes, you did!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did!”

“No, I –”

“Alright!” Ryan interrupted as he noticed Turkey beginning to almost lunge and attack Greece. “Hellenic Republic, Republic of Turkey you two need to calm down before you injure yourself—or someone else.”

Dr. Vella spotted the three men, “Ah! There you are!”

Turkey turned to Ryan, “Thanks. I was trying to avoid her!”

Ryan shruged in a ‘sorry, didn’t know that’ way.

“Ryan!” Dr. Vella said, “Thank you for finding them, I was looking all over.”

“No problem?”

She turned to the two nations, and spoke in an assertive voice, “Now would you two care to explain to me why you are not drunk yet beaten to a pulp?”

Ryan gulped from her tone and inched out of the area. He walked through the hospital before hearing a very loud nation. The voice was soft-spoken but loud at the same time.

“Woah!” they exclaimed, “Pourquoi you do this to moi? Have je done something to toi? Hey! Hey! Tu arrêtes! Arrêtez-vous! Je parle à toi!”

“Stop talking to me, aru! Move out of my way!”

“Tu m'as kicked out of our pact!” the loud voice exclaimed, “Comment do you expect moi to act?”

“I swear I’ll take you down, aru, unless you move out of my way, aru!”

“Affronte-moi.” _Fight me._

Ryan rushed over to the two nations, “Woah, woah, woah!” he exclaimed, “Let’s not go too far.”

China was currently having a glaring contest with, surprisingly, Canada. Ryan knew they were both drunk from the smell of alcohol was strong.

“People’s Republic of China, Canada; what happened?” Ryan demanded.

Canada cracked his bloody knuckles, “This _hoser_ and I created this pact with Norway, the—”

“Chianadaway pact?”

“Correct.”  Canada nodded, his speech slurred, “But now he is kicking me out because ‘I’m too violent’. Well you can’t take over the world without being violent!”

“Don’t fight your own members, aru!”

“Ferme ta bouche! I’ll fight who I want!”

“I, I have to agree with People’s Republic of China,” Ryan said, “You cannot go around fighting whoever you want. Where is Dr. Lyon?”

“Betrayed by my own citizen!” Canada gasped, “Mon Dieu! Comment did this happen?”

Ryan sighed, “I’ll ask again, where is Dr. Lyon?”

“He’s busy with Al.” Canada grumbled, “Apparently knocking him out was _not_ the correct thing to do.”

“You knocked the out the United States of America?” Ryan asked, flabbergast. Who knew this soft-spoken country could knock out a superpower?

Canada smiled, “Like 1814—but with less fire.”

“1814…”

“~and the white house burned, burned, burned…~” the northern nation sung.

“My god.” Ryan realised, “You’re the homicidal, violent drunk.”

“See why I wanted to kick him out, aru? Can’t have _that_ running the world.” China explained.

“Uh,” Ryan didn’t want to agree with the other violent drunk (the Chinese man’s fingers were still blood stained) but he didn’t want to disagree. Instead he said: “Where is Dr. Wong?”

“Dealing with Korea, aru.” China explained, “And Japan. Korea’s knocked out, Japan’s injured.”

“How did that happen?”

China went on explaining a story about how he fought a drunken Korea and Japan got injured when Denmark and Sweden had their fight. China’s eyes glinted with an evil sheen as he retold how he managed to get into fisticuffs with Australia. The southern nation is still conscious. Canada kept singing ‘The War of 1812’ and ‘When Canada Rules the World’ in the background.

“Uh,” Ryan said, “I should best be going…I’ll find someone to watch you… (Most likely the security).”

He turned and passed a security guard on his way, he quickly told them to keep a watch over the two nations. The guard replied with “Yeah, that’s what I was doing.” Ryan nodded before finding somewhere else he could help.

“Why do my brothers hate me?” a voice demanded.

“Maybe because tu won’t to de parler!” an angry voice growled.

“Even you hate me!” The voice cried, “What did I do?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t forget your colonies.”

“OI PUT A SOCK IN IT, NEW ZEALAND. NO ONE LIKES YOU, MATE!”

“Australia, don’t do that. Apologise to New Zealand.”

“Il ne faut pas apologise to Nouvelle-Zélande.”  The angry voice snarled, “Il needs to fight his own battles. Like moi.”

“Shut up you frog! Can’t you see I’m having a moment?” 

“Quel moment? Vous êtes un idiot.”

“Wow, at least you have formalities with me.”  

“Ta gueule!” The voice growled again, “No one _likes_ you! Black-sheep of Europe! Black-sheep of Europe!”

“Stop it!” he sounded like he was going to cry.

“You can’t even decide what religion tu es! _Tisk tisk._ ”

“God I don’t know…”

“Hah! Let’s just be Jedi’s, mate!”

A pause, “Lord of the Rings was better.”

A gasp. “YOU TAKE THAT BACK!”

“Never.”

“Oi, mate! You take that back before I feed you to the emu!”

“Like I’m afraid.”

“You should be, mate. Never cross an emu. Ever. I barely survived the last time.”

“I dare you to cross an emu.”

“SWEET! LET’S DO THAT, MATES!”

“Non, Australie. That would be stupide.” 

“Mate, why must you ruin my fun?”

“I can’t have another colony leave me!” the emotional voice cried, “Don’t go! I’m sorry I used you as a prison! It’s only because America—” he chokes on his words, “America left me… AMERICA! _WHYYYYY?_ ”

“Uh, mates, I think we should leave…”

“For once, I agree with Australia.”

“Oui.”

Ryan walked over and saw France, Australia, and New Zealand standing a ways away from England. The ex-empire was on his knees, almost crying.

“What is going on here?” Ryan asked.

France sighed, “Angleterre, here, is crying over the most stupide things.”

“I’m,” sniff, “I’m not crying you bloody frog!”

Ryan raised an eyebrow at the hypocritical Englishman, “Who is watching you?”

“No one,” New Zealand informed, “Bakker is with Holland and Lyon is with America.”

England cried out, “No!! America!! Why did you leave????”

Everyone ignored him, Ryan turned to France, “Is there anyone to watch over you guys?”

France brushed his hair off his cheek, “Je ne vois pas pourquoi nous avons besoin d'une personne watching us.” _I do not see why we need a person watching us._

“French Republic,” Ryan started, “Every single one of you is drunk. You need a sober supervisor to make sure none of you do something stupid.”

“Oh!” France exclaimed, “Monaco is supposed to watch us. Où est elle?” _Where is she?_

“Did she get injured during the so-called bar fight?” Ryan wondered.

“Je ne sais pas.” _I do not know._

Just as France said that, Monaco came rushing down the hallway. “Grand frère, there you are!”

“Ah, ma petite soeur,” France greeted, “Comment ça va?” _How are you?_

“Ah, bien.” Monaco answered, “What are you doing out here in the hallway?” she wondered.

“Angleterre broke down crying randomly.” France explained.

“OI!” Australia complained, “You started to make fun of him!”

“QUOI?” France demanded, “Moi? Nonsense.”

“I was there, you two got into an argument.” New Zealand countered, “I think England started it.”

“He’s right,” England sniffled, “You insulted me you frog!”

“Why must you call me a frog?” France demanded.

“Shut it you wanker. You don’t know _anything!”_

Ryan sighed, he turned to Monaco, “Principality of Monaco,” he said, “Will you please make sure they don’t do anything stupid—I have to go and see if I can help any of the doctors.”

She nodded, “Of course. I wouldn’t want grand frère injuring him.”

Ryan thanked Monaco and left the five nations alone. He walked passed a few nations lying in stretchers, unconscious. He looked down at Prussia; Germany was beside him. He was speaking in rapid German to his older brother; Ryan didn’t understand a word of what was said. Though they were both drunk, Germany seemed to not be really affected.

Austria and Veneziano were both passed out on the stretchers. They didn’t smell like alcohol, nor had any injuries. Ryan looked at their stats and discovered that they both fell unconscious after one drunk (thanks to Germany for the information).

Russia was also unconscious; he had his pipe in his hand and was muttering. He seemed like he was sleeping. He had an innocent smile on his face that contrasted with the dark aura coming off of the northern nation.

“Lucky,” Ryan grumbled. Since they were unconscious, they didn’t have to deal with drunken nations—unlike him.

He passed Hungary and Estonia singing again. This time: “Seven thousand eight hundred and ninety nine bottles of beer on the wall! That’s seven thousand eight hundred and ninety nine beers! Take one down! Pass it ‘round! That’s seven thousand eight hundred and ninety eight bottles of beer on the wall!”

He completed the full circuit and found Iceland and Norway again. This time, the ex-Viking was clinging to the isolated nation’s leg. Ryan walked over them.

“Get off me.” Iceland tried to shake Norway off.

“Don’t leave! You need to join the Chianadalandway pact!” Norway tried to convince his brother to join.

Iceland spotted Ryan, “Hey! I know I said that I could handle him—but I lied! I need help!”

Ryan bent down to the nation on the ground, “Kingdom of Norway, what are you doing?”

Norway looked up at him, “None of your business.”

Ryan sighed, “Alright, come on.” He lightly grabbed Norway’s arm and guided the nation to his feet. Norway didn’t complain. He grabbed his arm from Ryan and clung back to Iceland, he clutch around the forearm.

“Island!” Norway cried, “Hvorfor du forlot meg?” _Why did you leave me?_

Iceland sighed and face-palmed, “I didn’t. You’re the one who let go of my leg.”

Norway didn’t respond, rather, he clutched onto Iceland’s arm harder.

“Ow…” Iceland complained, “Who knew you had such a strong grip?”

Ryan sighed, “Kingdom of Norway, please drop Republic of Iceland’s arm.”

“Nei.” _No._

Iceland sighed, “Noregur, you’re cutting off my circulation to my arm.”

Norway slightly reduced the pressure on his brother’s arm. 

“ _Noregur…”_

Ryan opened his mouth to try and convince Norway to let go of Iceland’s arm, but someone gasping from the hallway drew both of the sober people’s attention. Dr. Jensen stood down the hallway.

“There you are!” She exclaimed as she made her way down towards the three men. “I was looking for you!” she turned to Ryan, “How did you find them?”

“They were right here the whole time…” Ryan explained.

Dr. Jensen nodded before she turned and glared at the two nations, “Republic of Iceland and Kingdom of Norway, can either of you explain your actions?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Iceland explained, “Denmark dragged me along to the bar with them and I managed to be one of the only people _not_ drunk. He and Sweden got into a fight and knocked each other out—which I assume you know. And now Norway is trying to get me to join up with he, China, and Canada in the—”

“Chianadalandway pact!” Norway slurred, “You can still join.”

“ _No thank you.”_ Iceland said. He turned to Dr. Jensen, “Can you deal with him? He’s being really clingy.”

“Of course,” Dr. Jensen nodded. She quickly turned to Ryan, “We’re good here, you could check to see if Kane needs anything.”

“Okay,” Ryan said. He turned and left the three people in the hallway. Dr. Jensen was trying to pry Norway off of Iceland’s arm before he loses blood flow to his fingers.

Ryan passed Hungary and Estonia for the last time singing: “There’s one bottle of beer on the wall! That’s one bottle of beer! Take that down! Pass it ‘round! No more bottles of beer on the wall! OOOOOOHHHHH that’s one billion bottles of beer on the wall!...”

Ryan spotted the head nurse by the World Cup (of Joe). He was sitting down, nearly half-asleep, sipping a tea called: Vancouver Riot 2010. He looked up when Ryan stood by him.

“Hello, Ryan.” Kane said.

“Dr. Jensen said I could see if you needed assistance…” the college student explained.

Kane took a sip from his caffeinated drink, “Nope I’m good. Almost everyone has been dealt with. So I’m finishing my break and checking out for the night. You can leave as well.”

“Isn’t there still people that need to be dealt with?”

Kane shook his head, “Nope. We’re all good. Go home. You’ve been here since the beginning of the day.”

Ryan sheepishly scratched the back of his head, “I guess…”

“Good. Now I give you permission to leave for today. If anyone complains, they can bring it up with me. Got it?”

“I guess.” Ryan nodded slowly.

“Good,” Kane said, “I’m on my third cup of caffeine. I need some silence.”

“Bye.” Ryan waved slightly.

He turned and left the hospital, heading to his dorm.

Man, this was a very weird day.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Late Birthday (Constitution) Day Norway!  
> Also, if anyone speaks Dutch, Norwegian, Italian, Spanish, or French can you please correct our google translated sentences? Thank you in advance!


	4. Natural Disasters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hospitals are not all 'sunshine' and 'rainbows'. There are hardships as well.   
> Ryan finds out what some of these hardships are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter...   
> Enjoy!

It was few days since the drunken nation incident and Ryan was sitting with Dr. Tuma, Dr. Wong, and Dr. Gomez at lunch. Dr. Tuma didn’t have any appointments that day, none of the Asian nations has called in for Dr. Wong, and the micronations rarely showed up at the hospital for Dr. Gomez to worry about them. They were at a café called: The USF (The United States of Foodica). America had patent the name to them.

Dr. Wong was going on a tangent about the time when Hong Kong lit a firework in the hospital, resulting in Iceland and him getting third degree burns. Of course, the burns healed after a week.

Dr. Gomez pipped in with a story about the time when Ladonia’s laptop fell into the pool and he electrocuted himself. The micronation could barely move or speak without twitching for a week. It was funny because besides from the twitching, the micronation was perfectly healthy. He had to stay in the hospital, and resented it the whole time.

Dr. Tuma couldn’t share any of his stories because of ‘doctor/patient confidentiality’.

Ryan didn’t have any stories to share. Instead, he turned to Dr. Wong. “Why was Republic of Iceland with,” he sighed, “Hong Kong Special—?”

“They‘re friends,” The Chinese woman interrupted, “He and Republic of Iceland ‘hang out’ together for some reason. I think it is because United Kingdoms of Great Britain and Northern Ireland cursed him to have _the_ eyebrows. Republic of Iceland did beat the ex-empire in war. That may be why.”

“What war?”

“The Cod Wars,” Dr. Tuma sighed, “I’ve heard of it from them both.”

“Oh.”

“At least you don’t have to deal with any of the nations after a natural disaster,” Dr. Wong argued to the psychologist, “State of Japan comes in yearly because of the earthquakes.”

“Hey,” Dr. Gomez complained, “Republic of Molossia has to come in for dehydration annually.”

Ryan spotted where this would be heading, “Alright.” He said interrupting the two women, “Let’s not try to one-up each other by what happens to the nations.”

Dr. Tuma nodded, “Agreed.”

“Fine.” Dr. Wong grumbled.

Dr. Gomez sighed, “Okay.”

They were silent for a few seconds, “Besides,” Dr. Tuma started, “I would beat you all. You have to deal with them physically; I have to deal with all their _mental_ problems.” The three glared at the psychologist. “What?” Dr. Tuma wondered.

Ryan turned to the Chinese lady, “You mentioned natural disasters,” he reminded, “Do they affect the nation—like a disease or a broken bone?”

Dr. Wong looked at Ryan, “No one told you?” she wondered, “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” he wondered.

“I’ll talk to Kane later,” Dr. Tuma sighed. He took a bite from his sandwich.

“What don’t I know?” Ryan wondered.

“To simplify it,” Dr. Gomez started, “A natural disaster to a nation is like…” she thought for a moment, “lifelong disorders for humans. Some get lots of them, the others doesn’t get any.”

Ryan didn’t say anything as she continued.

“For example: United States of America’s geography is where a lot of tornados are.” She explained, “So he will receive the symptoms of the tornado regularly. The symptoms are uncontrollable sneezing, clumsiness, and confusion. Like I mentioned earlier, Republic of Molossia has droughts. He gets severely dehydrated and parched.”

“State of Japan has earthquake symptoms. It’s like a seizure, but it also depends on the severity of the earthquake—as does all natural disaster.” Dr. Wong explained, “I believe that Republic of Iceland almost yearly comes in for volcanoes.”

“Volcanoes?” Ryan wondered.

Dr. Tuma nodded, “Fevers, burning to the touch, smelling of sulfur, blistering of skin, they will be in immense pain, and they will (of course) cough up ash.”

“That must be terrible.”

“It is.”

* * *

“I can’t stand it anymore!” Iceland exclaimed from his hospital bed. He was sweating through his clothing, he coughed between his words, morphine and IV drips were connected to his arms, his heart monitor spiked with his sudden outburst, his skin was so red that he looked sunburned, and his skin blistered all over his body. Luckily this was a small eruption so he wasn’t in immense pain, but he did have a terrible cough. “Why can’t the other nations realise that I have _no control over volcanoes!”_

He was speaking to Dr. Tuma. The psychologist was sitting in a guest chair beside the injured nation. The door and windows were closed. This was Iceland’s therapy session.

Dr. Tuma waited for Iceland to speak again. The nation sighed, realising his out-burst. He slowly calmed down his racing heart. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“It is perfectly normal for you to be stressed and angry during this circumstance.” Dr. Tuma explained, “This is why I am here; to help you through times of stress and anger.”

Iceland nodded, “I’m just so frustrated with how the other nations are acting.” He broke out into a coughing fit before grabbing his water from the bedside table. He cleared his throat, “Sorry.”

“Republic of Iceland,” Dr. Tuma comforted, “You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing that has happened was any way, shape, or form, in your power.”

“I know,” Iceland sighed, “I can get why the others are acting like this. They want to go back to their country, leave whatever country they were in, make sure their citizens can return back home, ect. But why can’t they think for a moment to realise that this is also impacting me the most? It was just a streak of luck that Denmark injured his head on the table and may have gotten a concussion that I was here when the volcano erupted. Other words, this would have ended badly.”

Dr. Tuma nodded, “I agree. Luck has its ways of working.”

“All the airports have been closed, all flights in Europe cancelled, everyone here is stuck here, and I keep getting angry phone calls. I don’t think that is luck.” Iceland muttered, “Has my boss called yet?”

“No,” Dr. Tuma said, “But I assume he is working on whatever needs to be done to fix the airways and to clean up the mess. He should call soon.”

“Good,” Iceland breathed, “I want this volcano to _chill out_ already. I don’t need to spend any more time in this place—no offense.”

“None taken.” Dr. Tuma said, “I’m sure many others feel the same way as you.”

“When will this end?” Iceland complained, falling against his pillow.

“Hopefully in a few days,” Dr. Tuma hoped.

Iceland only grumbled in return. It was almost like he knew he had to stay in the hospital for four months. Which he did, until the volcano stopped. Then he had to stay for another month to recover.

* * *

 

“United States of America had to come in for a volcano before. Out of every natural disaster, volcanoes; wild fires; and plagues are the worse.” Dr. Wong mentioned.

“What, what happens with wild fires?” Ryan cautiously wondered.  

“Almost the same thing as with volcanoes,” Dr. Tuma explained, “But they will smell like burning wood, and will not cough up ash.”

“Canada has come in before with _really_ bad burns from his wildfires.” Dr. Wong mentioned.

“Poor guy,” Dr. Gomez nodded, “His right side of his body was burnt so badly that he couldn’t go out to help his troops combat the fires. These fires kept coming back for two years straight. Luckily there weren’t many casualties, so he managed to recover quickly. But it was still brutal.”

“Wow.” Ryan breathed.

* * *

Dr. Gomez and Dr. Lyon were with Canada in the hospital. The said nation was currently unconscious while in his hospital room. The two doctors were talking outside his room. The door was closed.

“This isn’t good, Abril.” Dr. Lyon sighed, he scratched at his stubble he forgot to shave this morning, “Within two years he has come here for wildfires that range months long.”

“How is he so far?” Dr. Gomez wondered.

“He has multiple first and second degree burns on his right arm and a large third degree burn on his torso. He has a slight fever and seems to be barely lucid when he was conscious.” Dr. Lyon explained.

“Has his Prime Minister contacted?” Dr. Gomez wondered.

Dr. Lyon nodded, “Yes, he seemed very concerned for his nation’s well-being. Two of his Primers have contacted us as well. They have informed us of the state of the wildfires. Entire towns have been evacuated. This does not seem to be a simple wildfire.”

“Do we know what caused it?”

“Suspected to be human caused.”

Dr. Gomez sighed, “Why would people do this to the nations?”

“They don’t know about the nations,” Dr. Lyon reminded, “Only certain people do. They are a classified secret that has existed since the beginning of humankind, and the beginning of countries.”

“But still, why would people do this to the environment?” Dr. Gomez asked.

“That is a question still not answered.”

Dr. Gomez sullenly nodded.

* * *

“What about the time where People’s Republic of China had to be quarantined because of a possible outbreak of the avian influenza.” Dr. Wong mentioned.

“It wasn’t anything serious, though.” Dr. Gomez recalled, “It was only one person. That shouldn’t have done any damage to him.”

Dr. Wong shrugged, “His government still wanted is to be quarantined just in case.”

“Oh.” Ryan said. “This is interesting. How come I was never told of this before?”

Dr. Tuma sighed, “I’ll have to ask Kane about that.” he glanced at his watch, “Huh, it seems that break is almost over.”

“That sucks.” Dr. Gomez pouted, “I always liked the breaks.”

“What are you going to do for the day?” Ryan wondered, “Since it doesn’t seem like anyone of your patients are coming in for today.”

“I’ll properly go over to where Apollonia is and offer her some help with the Nordics,” Dr. Gomez suggested.

“I’ll take either Schmidt or Lyon.” Dr. Wong said, “They’re normally busy.”

“I’m sleeping in my office for the rest of the day.” Dr. Tuma mentioned. “My next appointment is all of Eastern Europe. I need to sleep. I don’t even know what they want to come in for…”

“Isn’t that in weeks?” Ryan asked.

“Shush, doesn’t matter. I need to mentally prepare myself.”

“Okay…” Ryan muttered. He cleared his throat, “I think that I will properly find Kane and shadow him for some time.”

“Speaking of him, I still need to speak with him.” Dr. Tuma remembered, “I’ll do that later.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Dr. Gomez nodded. She turned to Ryan, “Well Allen, it was good to speak to you.”

“You too, Dr. Gomez.”

“You can call me Abril, if you want.”

“Okay…”

“Oh my gosh,” Dr. Wong sighed, “It’s not the end of the day. We’ll still see each other. Let’s just get to work already before we get yelled out.”

“Agree.” Dr. Tuma nodded.

The three doctors and the med student turned and parted ways, heading to where they are needed most.

(Or where they want to go, such as in Dr. Tuma’s case…)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy late birthday's Denmark and Sweden!


	5. Happy Birthday Canada and Hong Kong!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan finds out about what happens on July, 1st.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cross posted on Ff.net  
> Sorry for the late update....

Tomorrow is July 1st, the day Canada became a country and the day Hong Kong got passed back to China from England. It was also three days before America’s Big Birthday Bash™, but who cares about that? This is Hong Kong and Canada’s Day! Two places who share almost nothing with each other, except for the fact of one bushy eye-browed nation.

So the two of them, naturally, decided to have their own special party.

They don’t really talk much but on this one day, they celebrate their joint birthday’s.

“Who’s coming this year, eh?” Canada asked, his voice soft.

“Just like the usual.” Hong Kong replied.

Canada nodded.

“What are you talking about?” Ryan asked.

Currently, Canada and Hong Kong were in National Hospital because of a bear fight. Okay, it wasn’t necessarily a ‘bear fight’, more of a… bear accident. The details do not matter, all that happened was that both nations got injured and are now in the hospital. And since it is just a simple injury, Dr. Wong and Dr. Lyon tasked Ryan with it.

He thinks this is pay-back for something.

Canada glanced around. They were in a secluded room, there was no one else in the room. He looked back at Ryan, “Eh? Oh, since tomorrow is 1st of July, it’s Hong Kong’s and my birthday.”

“Oh? Happy early birthday.” Ryan said, “How old are you turning?”

“Thank you.” The two nations said.

Canada spoke up, “151, eh. I guess… that is if you don’t count my days as a colony.”

“Like 1514.” Hong Kong said. He turned to Canada, “I forgot how young you like are.”

Canada shrugged.

“Since it’s like our birthday,” Hong Kong simply explained, turning back to Ryan, “We have like a joint party.”

Canada nodded, “Normally, our induvial families come. France comes, America… is busy planning his own party, Uncle Scotty comes, and England always sends cards. Netherlands always gives his card during the Annual Tulip Festival, eh.”

“Sensei and like the rest of Asia also comes.” Hong Kong mentions. “Iceland gets invited, and so Denmark comes as like ‘parent supervision’.”

“Eh, China is older…” Canada shrugged. “But Denmark always brings me my flag from Hans Island, and I return his.”

“Hans… what?” Ryan asked as he began to fill out the medical paper.

“Hans Island. It’s an island off the coast of Greenland. Since Greenland is a territory of Denmark’s, we both have claim over it.” Canada explained. “Instead of actual war, we plant our flags respectfully, and I leave Canadian whiskey behind while he leaves Danish schnapps. We return each other’s flags when we get the chance. Hans Island is directly in line that separates our water territories.”

“Cool.” Ryan had to admit. “So… what goes on in this party?”

Hong Kong shrugged, “We like just hang around, eat chips and junk food, and then have cake. There’s like two cakes at the party.”

Canada nodded, “Mine is maple flavoured, eh.”

“Which is like weird,” Hong Kong said, “Anyway, they are like designed with our flags on it.”

“Interesting… interesting…” Ryan admitted. “Well, it seems like you two are in good health. Just don’t get into anymore bear fights.”

“It was an accident.” Canada muttered. He and Hong Kong stood up. “Thank you, Ryan.”

“Thanks.” Hong Kong nodded.

Ryan waved to them as they left him in the room. He sighed and cleaned up the area. After five minutes, someone walked inside. “Hey, dude, you’re that college student, right?” America asked.

Ryan looked up, “Correct. And you are the United States of America.”

America nodded. He flashed him a wide smile, “Have you seen Canadia around?”

Ryan sighed. “It’s Canada. And yes, actually, he just left.”

America’s smile faltered slightly, “Okay, cool. Do you know where he went? I want to invite him to my party.”

“I’m sure he knows that he’s invited…” Ryan muttered. He cleared his throat, “Uh, no. He left with Hong Kong Special Administrative—”

“Got yeah, dude!” America nodded, “Well, if you see him tell him I want to chat, ‘kay?”

“I guess…”

“Thanks, man! I knew I could count on you!” America patted Ryan’s shoulders before turning and leaving the college student alone again.

Ryan grabbed his clipboard and left the room to see if he could find either Dr. Wong or Dr. Lyon and hand them his report.

He managed to find Dr. Wong at the USF. He didn’t manage to find Dr. Lyon until the end of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Late Birthday Iceland!  
> And...  
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY CANADA AND HONG KONG!!!


	6. 100 Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Flanders Fields the poppies grow...
> 
> At times like this, some nations reflect upon their actions.  
> They reflect upon battles.  
> They reflect upon one war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We don't own Hetalia.
> 
> THIS IS NOT GOING TO BE FLUFF!  
> WARNING YOU NOW!
> 
> Enjoy!

_In Flanders Fields the poppies grow_

_Between the crosses, row on row,_

* * *

“Is there anything you would like to talk about in this session, Canada?” Dr. Tuma asked, looking up at the somber nation.

Canada shook his head, fingering his red poppy. “No.”

“Are you sure?” Dr. Tuma sincerely wondered, “It is the 100th anniversary…”

“I’m sure.”

* * *

_That mark our place; and in the sky_

_The larks, still bravely singing, fly_

* * *

During Germany’s session, Dr. Tuma stayed quiet.

The strong, German nation needed some peace.

He allowed Germany to wallow in his memories.

Dr. Tuma helped him by just being there.

At times like this, no one should be alone.

* * *

_Scare heard amid the guns below._

_We are the Dead. Short days ago_

* * *

Russia didn’t come to his session.

The only person who saw him was Dr. Dimitrov.

As Ryan passed by the Eastern Europe wing on his way to leave the hospital, he could hear the sounds of sobbing.

Kane explained to Ryan what that was.

When a nation losses a mass population, it physically impacts them. When someone reminds them of the loss, phantom pains occur.

Russia lost 1 700 000 people.

* * *

_We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,_

* * *

France proudly wore his _Bleuet de France_ to his session.

As much as it pained him to do anything, he carried among his day. He was proud.

To think of all of the battles that happened to his land, all of the trenches dug, all of the lives lost, and he still survived. He survived it all.

France did not fall.

And for that, he was proud.

* * *

_Loved and were loved, and now we lie_

_In Flanders fields._

* * *

Austria and Hungary were forced apart 100 years ago.

100 years passed, and they still loved each other.

Nothing, not even a treaty, could separate them.

They could never become Austria-Hungary again, but that didn’t matter.

They still loved each other.

That’s all that matters.

* * *

_Take up our quarrel with the foe;_

_To you from failing hands we throw_

* * *

Veneziano and Romano had shared a session.

They were Italy. One nation. One state.

They were on both sides of the war.

From the Triple Alliance to the Triple Entente.

They wanted land from the Treaty of Versailles, land from the Treaty of London.

462 000 lives lost for this land.

For this land. And for an agreement that England didn’t live up to.

They weren’t a young nation, that wasn’t a secret. But they were inexperienced in war. Veneziano was sheltered by Austria, and Romano by Spain.

Veneziano was sheltered by the man who he had to fight.

And he didn’t realise it then, but he had to fight against his future best friend.

462 000 lives lost for barely anything in return.

* * *

_The torch; be yours to hold it high!_

* * *

England joined the war to help out Belgium.

His Prime Minister wanted peace. But he also wanted justice.

Peace cannot be cruel, for another war will form.

His PM was correct.

For peace was cruel, and another war broke out.

England explained this to Dr. Tuma, as he did every year.

He told Dr. Tuma about what he felt when he pulled Canada in, how France reacted. How France was fuming. About how France hated him for allowing the ex-French colony to go to Vimy Ridge. How proud they both were when Canada won Vimy Ridge. For how happy Canada was after winning the ridge when France and England couldn’t.

How distraught Canada was when he found it that the ridge wasn’t very important.

How England felt when America joined, mid-war.

How he wasn’t surprised, it was America’s thing to do. To show up near the end of the war and be called the “hero”.

How explained happy he was when America showed up. To have the extra army help them out. For how  he was that happy America joined the Entente, and not the Alliance.

And now, there is no one alive who fought for the British Empire.

Much like their fallen foes they, too, rest.

* * *

_If ye break faith with us who die_

_We shall not sleep,_

* * *

America was still loud in the session.

He went on about how his armies won the war.

How the Entente would have lost without him.

How he was the hero.

He went on and on about his “Veteran’s Day”.

About how proud he was.

About how it didn’t sting.

About how all of his operations _never_ failed.

And if they _did_ fail, then it wasn’t _his_ fault—but the fault of his fellow nations.

Dr. Tuma could still see the pain under the smile.

America may have loss 53 000 people, but it still stung.

He just didn’t want to show it.

How could America, world superpower, loud, arrogant at times, the nation who “helped to end the war” show weakness? He needed to be strong, to show that it is okay to smile.

He needed to “be strong for his follow nations”.

Even at the expense of his own emotions.

* * *

_Though poppies grow_

* * *

“It’s okay, you know.” Dr. Tuma started, “To feel sad about this. This is the 100th anniversary of the First World War.”

“The War to End All Wars…” Canada remembered. “That’s what we called it. Oh, weren’t we arrogant…”

“I don’t think you were arrogant.” Dr. Tuma off-handily mentioned, “But optimistic.”

Canada looked at the red poppy pin that was pinned over his heart. “Maybe…” he looked up at Dr. Tuma, “Have you ever been to Flanders fields?”

Dr. Tuma shook his head. “No.”

“It’s in Belgium.” Canada continued, “I go every year. I wander the graves, the unnamed Canadian soldiers. Of course, _I_ know their names. I know the names of all my citizens.”

Dr. Tuma listened.

“It is much like how John McCrae wrote: _In Flanders fields the poppies grow between the crosses, row on row…_ ” Canada paused, tears pricking his eyes. “ _That mark our place; and in the sky the larks, still bravely singing, fly scare heard amid the guns below…”_

“He was Canadian, wasn’t he?”

Canada nodded. “There is no longer any Canadians who survived the war. They’re all dead.”

Dr. Tuma solemnly lowered his head.

The Canadian nation wiped the tears from his eyes a few minutes later. “Thank you.”

“Any time.” Dr. Tuma encouraging smiled, “Any time.”

* * *

_In Flanders fields._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> If anything is incorrect, please correct us! 
> 
> [Happy late birthday to… America, Liechtenstein, France, Poland, Switzerland, South Korea, Ukraine, Belarus, Sealand, Germany, China, Taiwan, Austria, Greece, and Turkey!]


	7. Off-Hours Fun!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan finds out what the nations do in their free times. And he's invited to join. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We don't own Hetalia.
> 
> (Get your minds out of the gutters!)
> 
> Enjoy!

Ryan was just peacefully reviewing a medical report Dr. Lyon had him look over when he felt the sensation of someone staring at him. He shook his head and ignored it. He then heard the shuffling of feet behind him and some voice talking.

“Anko, don’t be stupid.” muttered the first voice, “I don’t see why you would ask.”

“You never know!” said the second voice, “Besides, we need to know more about him!”

“You’re just paranoid, Danmörk.” A third voice sighed, “And we already have six people.”

“Five actually.” Voice Number One corrected.

“What?”

“Yeah!” Voice Number Two exclaimed, “I don’t actually play! I’m just there!”

“Why don’t I have that luxury,” Voice Number Three complained. “He comes willingly, I don’t. Here, take my character sheets. I quit.”

“No. Don’t be like that, lillebror.” Voice Number One said, “Besides, it’s more fun when everyone can _see_ what is happening.”

“I _don’t,”_ Voice Number Three argued, “Neither does America, and he’s allowed!”

“You’ll have to take that up with England, lillebror.” Voice Number One mentioned. “He’s the one who brought him.”

“Well, I’m still going to ask him.” Voice Number Two declared.

“No, Danmörk! You idiot!” Voice Number Three exclaimed.

The sound of footsteps became louder and Ryan felt someone tap his shoulder.

“Yes?” he turned around and saw Denmark standing in front of him. “What can I do for you, Kingdom of—”

“What is your thoughts on RPG’S?” Denmark blurted out.

Ryan blinked, “What? Like _Dungeons and Dragons_?”

Denmark nodded.

Ryan thought, “I guess they’re fun.” He admitted, “I used to play them with my friends in high school.” He looked at the nation, “Why?”

“Great!” Denmark smiled, “Come to the attic at ten.”

“Wha?” Ryan blinked.  

Denmark turned to head back towards Norway and Iceland. He glanced behind at Ryan, “Don’t forget to bring your character sheets…!” The three nations turned and left.

Ryan was left, alone, in the hallway once again. 

“…What just happened?”

* * *

Ryan was a fool to _actually_ listen to what Denmark had to say. But still, he stood outside of the attic of the hospital. He had a small folder with him, it was a character he _just_ created. His character was Ryan Allan. A simple human thief. There wasn’t anything special about Ryan’s character. It was just a person he managed to create in time.

He raised his hand to knock, but the door opened to reveal Denmark smiling at him.

“Newby!” he exclaimed, “So glad you came!”

“Iggy, you owe me five dollars!” America said to England.

The cape-clad former empire sighed and reached into his bag, pulling out the American currency. He handed it to the loud nation, whom pocketed it.

“What is going on?” Ryan asked after being ushered inside by Denmark.

“They bet on whether or not you would show.” Iceland explained from his spot on the couch.

“Why?”

Iceland shrugged, “It wasn’t likely that you would show, _especially_ after the way Dan talked to you about it.”

“Shall we begin?” Norway wondered. He was sitting on the same couch of Iceland; the latter was trying to move away from him.

“I guess…” Ryan sat on one of the free chairs around the table. “So, what exactly is going to happen?”

“Well,” Romania started, “We just finished Norway’s _creepy_ campaign, so we’re starting mine! I’m the DM or GM, which is short for Game Master. So, we’ll start by introducing who are characters are.”

“Dude, I’ll go first!” America exclaimed. He pulled out his paper and cleared his throat, England interrupted him.

“This better not be Americman from last campaign…” England muttered, “If it is, I will personally kick you from here. And I _don’t_ care that _this_ RPG is from your country.”

“No! Of course not!” America said, “Dude, it’s a totally different person. Meet: George Washington! My Dragoon Paladin!”

Ryan looked from America to England, “Isn’t George Washington the president who—”

“Yes.” Both America and England interrupted Ryan. America was smiling, England was pall.

“Anyway,” Romania cleared his throat, “What about you England?”

England sat up, “Well, his name is William Icancook III.”

“Icancook?” America laughed.

“Shut it,” England growled, “Anyway, he is a half-elf wizard.”

“You always do wizards…” Norway mentioned.

“And Romania always does vampires! Does it matter?” England demanded.

Norway didn’t answer, “My character is named Alexander—”

“HAMILTON!”

“—Trolluson. He is my rouge troll.”

“Trolluson?” Iceland repeated. “Is that the best you could come up with?”

Norway turned to him, “And I thought you don’t care, lillebror.”

Iceland flushed, “I _don’t._ It’s just a stupid name. That’s all.”

“Well, Icy, let’s hear yours!” Denmark exclaimed from his spot on the floor. He sat in front of the couch with the other two Nordics.

“Fine. His name Not Norway.” Iceland clenched out, “Since I lost a dare to Noregur. Not is the name of my character. He is an elf bard.”

“Okay.” Romania turned to Ryan, “What’s the name of your character, Ryan?”

Ryan shrugged, “He’s just called Ryan Allan.”

“That’s boring!” America complained. “Call him something else!”

“Yeah!” Denmark nodded, “You need something more creative.”

“Like what?”

Iceland sighed and turned to Norway, “We don’t need five people in a campaign. Why am I here again?”

“Because, it is fun. You just won’t admit it. Lillebror.” Norway explained.

Iceland huffed and turned away.

Ryan snapped his fingers, “I got it! His name is going to be Notryan Whyamihere. He’s a human thief.”

Everyone paused.

“Notryan.” Denmark started.

“Whyamihere.” America finished.

Ryan nodded. “It’s unique.”

Romania shrugged, “That it is! Alright, we’re set! Let’s get this campaign started!”

* * *

William was sitting in a bar when George Washington walked in. William was an old half-elf with a dark purple robe decorated with white stars. George Washington wore white armour that shone with a yellow glow. His great sword at his side.

George Washington got a drink from the bartender. It was a pint of beer. He grabbed it and took it over to the wizard.

“Are you William Icancook III?” George Washington asked.

* * *

America broke out in a laughing fit

“I can’t! I just can’t!” he managed between fits.

“What’s your problem?” England demanded.

“Icancook! That’s such a _stupid_ name!”

“At least it is _original!”_

“Alright!” Romania intervened. “Let’s continue!”

* * *

“So, what if I am?” William asked, “Who wants to know?”

“George Washington.” The paladin introduced, “I was told to find you here.”

 “By who?”

“One Alexander Trolluson.” George Washington explained. “He said to fetch you and bring you to town square.”

“And who told him?” William asked, drinking his beer.

“Logan Bumbleduck.” George Washington mentioned, “Here. A drink for the road.”

William looked at him, he took the beer. “Fine.” He downed it in one gulp. “Let’s go and see this Alexander Trolluson.”

* * *

“Did you talk to Amerika before or…?” Denmark asked Romania.

“Maybe. You won’t ever know.” Was the response.

* * *

Alexander wasn’t alone. There was an elf beside him. Not Norway. Alexander wore a black outfit, and green light armour. Not wore leather armour with chainmail accents.

* * *

“Chainmail accents?” Denmark asked.

“Shut, shut up!” Iceland blushed.

* * *

“I am Alexander Trolluson,” Alexander introduced, “This is Not Norway, my partner.”

“Hello.” Not said.

“George Washington,” the paladin introduced.

“William Icancook III.”

“You must be wondering why I called you here today?” Alexander said, “But I have a mission I need completed. My boss, Logan Bumbleduck, has called me and wants us to fetch a jewel from a mountain. This jewel, the Bloodstone, is worth billions. You will be paid accordingly if you participate.”

“Won’t you need a thief?” a voice behind them calls. It’s an NPC. “I know one.”

The four turn to them, “Who are you?”

“You can call me Inigo,” NPC introduced, “But if you’re going to steal a jewel, you’ll need a thief. I know one, mighty good one too.”

“Whom is this thief?” George Washington demanded.

“His name is Notryan Whyamihere.” Inigo said. “He should show up soon.”

“Why hasn’t Logan mentioned this… Notryan before?” Not demanded.

“You would have to ask Logan, not me.” Alexander said.

“What ya talking about?” A voice behind them asked.

They turned and see Notryan. He was wearing a light brown cloak.

“I take it that you are Notryan Whyamihere?” George Washington asked.

“Yes. Why?”

“We need your assistance.” Alexander said. “Are you a thief?”

“Yes. Unless you are the police—then no. Why?”

“Perfect.” Not says. “How about you join us on a trip in order to make a ton of money?”

“Depends. What are we doing?” Notryan asked.

“Stealing a jewel from a mountain.” William explained.

“Fair enough.”

* * *

“Cue theme music!” America said, “The gang’s together!”

“Oh, shut it, America.” England grumbled.

“Can I role to steal from someone?” Ryan asked.

“Sure. Who do you want to steal from?” Romania asked.

“Um… the United States of America?”

“Hey!” America complained.

Romania nodded, “Roll for sleight of hand check.”

“20, plus my bonus… 23.”  Ryan said.

“Yeah, you reach into George Washington’s pockets and steal: two daggers, three health potions, and a red ribbon.”

“Why do you have a red ribbon?” Iceland asked.

“Why don’t _you_ have a red ribbon?” America asked.

“Because it serves no purpose.”

* * *

And so, the five adventurers leave the town and head out into the woods. Inigo had given them a map that will lead them to the mountain, he offered to come along until they make it to the next town. The mountain is called Mount. Bram.

“How far away is this mountain?” Notryan asked.

“We have to pass through Stroker Ville which is east.” Inigo explained. “After that it is a day’s journey.”

* * *

“Alright!” Denmark said, “Who here doesn’t trust Inigo?”

He, Ryan, and America raised their hands.

“What? Why?” Romania demanded.

“He seems suspicious.” Ryan admitted.

“It’s almost like he wants to betray us! But you can’t ever betray the hero!” America declared.

“Let’s continue.”

* * *

“So,” Not started, “How do you know about this, Inigo?”

“Ah,” Inigo said, “I used to work in Stroker Ville. Until my wife left, of course. Then I felt to find work in that there town behind us. I hear things, word travels fast.”

“What species are you again, Inigo?” Alexander asked.

“I’m a human, why?”

“Just wondering.”

* * *

“That’s suspicious, Noregur.” Iceland said, “Why’d you ask?”

“Romania never told us.” Norway explained, “I was simply curious.”

“Oh.”

* * *

“So…” Notryan started, “How far until Stroker Ville?”

“Five hours on foot. Two by carriage.” Inigo announced.

“That’s it. I’m stealing a carriage.” Notryan muttered.

“No!” George Washington argued, “That is wrong. We can walk. No breaking the laws!”

* * *

“I roll to steal from the United States of America.” Ryan declared.

“Why are you going so formal?” Norway asked as America exclaimed “No!” in the background.

Ryan shrugged, “It’s protocol.”

“Well, screw protocol.” Denmark announced, “You’re off duty. Call us by our names. Not the formal ones.”

Everyone stared at Ryan, intimidating him to agree. “Okay…?” Ryan said.

“Good. Now, roll for slight of hand check.” Romania declared.

Ryan picked up the D20 and rolled it. “17 plus my bonus, 20.”

“Yup. You steal George Washington’s cloak and stuff it in your bag. He doesn’t notice.” Romania declared.

“Untrue!” America declared, “I roll an observation check!”

“Fine. What did you get?” Romania asked.

America rolled the die, “A 7…”

Romania shook his head, “Not going to cut it. Notryan steals your cloak off you and stuffs it in his bag. You are none the wiser. Though, you do feel a slight breeze. You ignore the feeling.”

“Still stealing that carriage.” Ryan admitted.

“There is no carriage around!” America exclaimed.

“Actually,” Romania started, “As you look out into the horizon, you see a carriage heading your way. It is full of orcs and slaves.”

“I don’t do anything.” Iceland declared.

“I take out my dagger and stab Inigo.” Norway declared. “I got a 10 plus two, 12.”

“What!” Denmark demanded.

“O…kay…?” Romania blinked, “You stab Inigo, but he doesn’t go down. He only freezes and clutches his wound.”

* * *

“Why would you do this?” Inigo demanded.

* * *

“I cut off his head.” Norway said, “I got a 20.”

“You monster!” America exclaimed.

“I offer to bury the body.” Ryan smirked.

* * *

“I just found a random shovel on the ground,” Notryan stated, “Need help digging a grave?”

“Thought you would never ask. Though, I can do magic.” Alexander mentioned.

“You monsters!” George Washington yelled.

* * *

“I steal from Inigo.” Ryan declared. “I got a 16.”

Romania sighed, “You find nothing but a silver key.”

“Cool.”

America scowled, “George has a heart attack.”

“I cast _Hole.”_ Norway showed Romania a card, “This allows me to dig a whole that is six feet deep, in any substance.”

“Role?”

“10.”

Romania shrugged, “You dig a hole.”

* * *

Alexander pushed the body into the hole. Not stared at the cart, “Are we going to do anything about the carriage?”

“Help me!” George Washington begged, “I’m about to die!”

William sighed, “Let me.”

* * *

“I cast _Explosion.”_ England explained. “I explode any living beings within a fifteen-metre radius.”

“And?” Romania edged on.

“Nat twenty.”

“You explode everyone. The orcs, the slaves, Not, George Washington, Notryan, and Alexander.” Romania explained, “Having fun yet?”

England froze. “Oops.”

* * *

“Oops.” William said.

* * *

America exclaims, “Yeah! _Oops!_ YOU KILLED MY FIRST PRESIDENT!”

“HE WAS A TRAITOR! I AM NOT CAMPAIGNING WITH SOMEONE NAMED AFTER A TRAITOR!”

“YOU’RE A TRAITOR!”

“This may be more intense than Eurovision 1969!” Denmark mentioned. Norway elbowed him.

“Shut it, idiot Dane.”

Ryan laughed. “Is the campaign over?”

Romania smiled, “Nope! This will continue later. The session is over, though! Go and make new characters and I will somehow figure out how this is going to work. England—don’t blow up anymore people.”

“As long as they are not named after traitors, we’re good.”

The group dissolved, and Ryan headed back to his house.

This was the most fun he has had in ages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pranked! It's just DnD!
> 
> Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukah! Merry Kwanzaa! Happy Holidays!
> 
> [Happy Birthday Latvia, Finland, and Russia!]


End file.
